Playing with Forever

Chapter 50: Tristan's Threats, Part II

My heart started racing at the sight of Tristan lurking outside of the gym as I left volleyball practice the week after prom. Things had been so good between me and Sam, and I didn't want to ruin it with thoughts about Tristan, or about him. I forced myself to walk past him, not cower.

He stepped in front of me, blocking my path as I stepped to the right, then the left, then stopped and finally faced him when he made it clear I wasn't getting past him. "I have somewhere to be," I ground out.

"Make time." He grabbed my arm as I tried to storm past him and whipped me around to face him, chest to chest. "Maybe you've forgotten, but I know your secrets, and if you don't want the school to know, you'd better do what I want."

I gritted my teeth, but didn't pull back. He knew he had me.

"Perfect," he praised. "Now, I want another kiss."

"Are you serious?" I demanded in disbelief.

"Deadly."

My eyes flitted all over—his face, the distance between us, how far away I was from escape. I could run, I could make it. But I had no doubt if I upset Tristan, he would most certainly share my secrets. Was a kiss worth keeping my secrecy?

"Don't worry," Tristan said, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. "We can keep this a secret. Your boyfriend doesn't need to know."

Oh man, I was going to have to do this. "It's nothing more than a kiss." And yes, keeping my past secret from Sam was most definitely worth it.

Tristan just smirked, then tapped his lips, urging me on. Righteous fury in my veins, I leaned forward and smashed my mouth against his.

Tristan laughed when I pulled away after only a second. "Angry—I like it," he said with a smile. "Another. And I expect it to be less chaste."

I exhaled furiously, but leaned back to him and kissed Tristan again. This time, he caught my head and kept it there, keeping the kiss going as he explored my mouth. He tasted sour, like old milk, and he was harsh and overly wet. I didn't feel fear when I kissed him, not like I used to with Sam. I was too mad. My rage fueled me on, disgust focusing me in the moment and not my past trauma.

Once the kiss broke, he pulled back with a smirk then licked his lips. "You taste better than I remembered, Abby," he murmured.

I looked away in disgust. "Am I done here? I have to go."

"Go ahead," he said, making a shooing motion at me. "Run back to Durand. Let him kiss you, without knowing your lips have been straying."

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I was late picking up the boys, and Sam was already at my house with Paula by time we returned home. "Where were you?" he asked curiously, no accusation in his voice.

"I had to stay late to work on an Econ project," I lied.

"Are you working with Mina?"

I shook my head. I didn't want to rope Mina into it. "Just some kids from class." Pushing inside the house, I escaped to the bathroom where I scrubbed my mouth out with toothpaste and soap. I brushed my teeth violently, sick to my stomach with what I'd done. How could I have kissed Tristan?

How could I not, when he threatened my secrets?

I used a washcloth to wash my lips, but I couldn't get them to feel clean, not with what I'd done. Guilty tears built in my eyes, and I had to wait a long ten minutes for them to clear before I could face Sam. 

What had I done? What I had to, I told myself, bolstering myself up. I had no choice--Tristan had given me no choice. 

I felt on edge when I went back out to the living room where Sam was. I couldn't possibly tell him, yet the guilt was eating me alive. I felt the knowledge of what I'd done bubbling inside of me, turning my stomach. I just wanted it to go away.

I panicked when Sam tried to kiss me that night. When his mouth neared mine, I turned my face at the last moment so his lips met my cheek. My stomach roiled.

I shouldn't be doing this. I SHOULDN'T BE DOING THIS.

Useless.

"I love you," I whispered, emotion building in my throat.

He placed a second, tender kiss on my forehead, happily murmuring, "I love you too, Abigail," in return.

I didn't deserve it.

-------------------

Tristan was there after practice again that next night. He tried to pull me aside after practice like the day before, but I fought against him.

"Uh, uh, uh," he scolded. "You know better than this. I own your secrets, remember?"

My hands fisted in frustration. "Fine. Just what do you want, Tristan?"

He purred with a grin like a cat that had caught a canary. "I love it when you say my name like that."

"Screw you, Tristan," I scoffed.

"Are you offering?"

"Is this what you wanted? Flirty banter?"

His smile widened. "I'm not complaining."

"Well, I have somewhere to be, and I hate you, so just tell me what you want."

"That's too bad," he replied with fake sweetness. "Because I sure love you."

I scoffed again at his mockery. "What do you want, Tristan? Another make out session?"

"It's like you read my mind." His eyes were alight with malice. He didn't care about me, I knew that. He didn't want me, not even physically. It was all a power trip to him, and he reveled in the anger and fear he alighted in me. He knew that aside from spilling my secrets directly, my dishonesty with Sam, my cheating on him, was the worst way of getting to me. He got off on destroying me emotionally, not to mention destroying my relationship. I was so lost in his web.

I threw my bag down on the ground. "Fine. Get it over with."

I kissed Tristan again against my better judgement. It was what I had to do to keep him silent though, so I had no choice but to put up with it. He ran his tongue along the seam of my lips, and I let him deepen the kiss.

I gave him four minutes before pulling away. "I have to go," I said again. Thankfully, he let me.

I fed another lie about the Econ project to Sam that evening and to the daycare workers when they asked. I apologized, but let them know that I may be half an hour later picking up the boys for the next few days. Who knew how long Tristan would keep this up?